Beginning of End
by zandra gorin
Summary: Isabella Hale was abruptly dragged out of her paved out, boring life and into a world that she only thought was fiction & fantasy. When everything is taken from her, but forever is given to her, how can she cope with the sudden, life-changing events?
1. Prologue

**PREFACE**

Was this what death really felt like?

I was told that seconds before your heart completely stops beating, your mind would play back all the human memories you held dearest to your heart. Every minute would feel like a second— an entire lifetime would be flashed faster than the speed of light, a blur of infinite light and colors. Your body would feel like it was floating in clouds, the soft vapor brushing against your skin, soothing all your worries and all the pain away. In short, it would be relatively un-excruciating.

But death was slowly proving that it was all but painless.


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** **THE TWILIGHT CHARACTERS BELONG, SADLY NOT TO ME, TO MS. STEPHENIE MEYER**. _This __**disclaimer**__ shall stand throughout the duration of the story whether visibly written in other chapters or not._

**A/N:** So… yeah, I know, I haven't even finished my other stories and now I'm putting up another one. Well, I couldn't have it in me to reject the idea. It was practically _begging _to let itself be published. I couldn't deny the story that opportunity now, could I? *Sighs* I hope you guys like it, it's a common plot, I think, but I couldn't resist the draw to writing a story like this. So, enjoy! ^_^

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_"You're an angel disguised."_

_- Awake, Secondhand Serenade_

**Chapter One**

I had surmised a while ago that I was in hell— the fire that had coursed through my body only proved it. Every nerve-ending, every nerve and capillary was smothered in the intense, excruciating pain the fire brought on. The only contradiction to my theory was my still beating heart… my very alive, racing heart.

I thought that the pain couldn't possibly get any worse than what I was already experiencing… until the fire had sizzled and squeezed at my center.

I begged the heavens to kill me then— to end all the suffering and torment and pain. I wished I was never born so that I wouldn't have to experience this… torture. I wanted to die. I wanted it all to end.

But amidst that, I was proud of myself, actually. It was a very petty thing for me to be proud of, but when you could hold on to nothing anymore, even something as trivial as that would matter greatly. Since the fire started, I allowed only a whimper to escape me, only a hiss of pain. I did not want the forces torturing me to be pleased— no yell or scream of pain issued through my lips. But then again, that was before the fire had settled and focused itself on the center of my chest.

I gasped and struggled to regain control over my voice. Something was telling me that it would do no good to scream. It would just further intensify the dry soreness my throat was starting to feel. It would only spark the tongues of fire that licked at it, burning, scorching. I could not succumb to the pain. My heartbeat, already racing, accelerated ten-fold. I resisted the urge to clench my chest, afraid that my hands would shrivel to dust if I so much as twitched a finger.

It continued like that. I dimly registered that the rest of my body was already cooling as the fire thrived at the central point in my heart. My mind could only concentrate on that sole factor. It still didn't acknowledge the changes that had already happened to my body— the lack of heat, the sensitivity of my hearing. The fire had gone from my fingertips, it moved up my legs and down my head, abandoning the tips of my toes and the back of my eyes.

The sounds around me started to magnify, becoming more distinct from one another. My hands, my entire body started to feel every fiber that was close to my skin, could distinguish each character. I separate intermingled sounds apart. I could feel the cloth I was lying on. I smelt silk and wood and metal and cotton. I smelt very faint scents of moss and pine and hyacinth. I smelt the lingering, mouthwatering aroma of honey, lilac and sunshine and cinnamon. Everything was clearer to my senses.

And then… one thump, two thumps, three thumps… it grew fainter and fainter until my heart finally stopped beating.

I had finally died.

But why was my consciousness still intact?

I was afraid to open my eyes, terrified of what would greet me, of what I would find. I resolved to feeling and hearing my surroundings.

I heard the wheels of a car passing, running over the gravel, creating a distinct cracking sound due to the friction it created. The slamming of doors reverberated in my ears. And then I heard the slow, rhythmic breaths of whatever creatures surrounded me… no heartbeat, just the breathing. And it only served to increase my already overwhelming fear and trepidation.

A part of me suddenly wondered if death gave you extraordinary hearing or something. Or if cars even existed in an alternate universe other than earth and if the ground was made of gravel in hell.

Nothing was making any sense!

I tried to remember how I died but suddenly regretted it at once. The memory was blurred, as if being covered by a light, translucent cloth— thank heavens for that. But even with that leeway, still I remembered.

Vile scum. Touching, hitting, ripping. They were the _true _definition of monsters, if ever those things really existed. I so wanted it to end but I didn't expect to land myself in hell— not when before the burning, I felt such cold, strong arms around me. I felt like I was flying through the night and I even faintly remember feeling elated as I squinted and saw a face that could only have belonged to an angel.

I was good in my mortal life. I always followed my parents' wishes, followed the strict rules of women etiquette and moral codes. I gave food to the hungry, I offered help to the weak and deprived… our family was one of the most known, wealthy and powerful in the society. And yet, we were known for our humility and our ready hand to extend to those in need. No one among my family members abused the power and fame that came with the name.

So what exactly did I do to deserve conviction in hell?

I smelled the scents strengthen and footsteps from underneath me. It was silent apart from the rushing of a nearby river, the swishing of the leaves of trees. I thought I was hallucinating but I thought I heard a soft growl.

"What were you thinking Carlisle? Isabella _Hale_?"

The voice that spoke was that of rich, low velvet. So beautiful. If my heart was still beating, it would have jumped. But the way he said my name, sneered it more like, irritated and annoyed, erased that possibility.

"Don't you think she's just a bit too recognizable?"

There it was again— I could practically hear the loathing venom underneath his tone. What had I done to infuriate him so? Wait, who was 'him' to begin with?

From the murmured conversation, I could tell that Carlisle was the one who found me. He retold the gruesome tale and a seed of satisfaction planted itself in me for it seemed like he knew who had tortured me to death. But it seemed more horrid, hearing it in his smooth voice. Were all voices in hell so goddamned exquisite?

"I know." The velvet voice sighed in defeat.

What did he know? He just heard the story. Why was everything so nonsensical? There was a pause and then, "I think you should check on her."

The nearing footsteps warned me of someone coming. It wasn't heavy, but urgent in a way. A part of me wanted it to be the one with the velvet voice. No matter how appealing his voice was, I wanted to confront him about his injudicious judgment of me. Why did it sound like he hated me so much?

Maybe I was dead, physically, but my mentality and character were alive as ever. I hated being kept in the dark. And I hated not knowing things that concerned me in any way.

They said curiosity killed the cat… but I can't be killed twice, now can I?

Apart from wanting to meet the person who seemed to hate me so much, I wanted answers. It was still my right to know whether or not I was in hell, correct? Yes, I still clung to my hell theory unless it was proven otherwise. How else could I explain the fire practically shredding my veins?

I blinked my eyes open, not wanting to be caught off guard. I gasped. I was expecting to find myself amidst burning, crackling fire, the only source of light in darkness that stretched on for infinity. I expected myself to be lying on damp, dark, dirty and muddy ground— stereotypical hell.

How wrong I was.

I was in a bright, well-lit room. With my suddenly defined eyes, I could see that it was as clean as crisp. No cobwebs, no dust bunnies, spotless. But there was a portion on the south wall, near the ceiling, where the tiniest bit of cream paint was peeling off. I could see each granule of light, the dust motes that seemed beautiful and captivating as they danced through the air.

I was surprised to see that I was lying on top of what seemed to be a hospital bed. The only thing in the room aside from the two chairs on the right side of the bed. I found comfort in having something familiar close to me.

When I was still alive, the family hospital always had welcome arms for me— I was an impossible klutz. Tripping over air was one thing that was constant throughout my day. It posed as a problem to my parents as they were looking for an acceptable husband for me. My mother always said that grace and refinement was a trademark for a good wife, only a rare few would settle for a clumsy maid. Luckily though, most of the males during matchmaking ceremonies viewed my particular problem as adorable. This seemed to appease my parents a lot and put my clumsiness in their good graces.

At the corner of my eyesight, I caught a profile of my hands. They were not blackened and shriveled as I thought they would be. Instead, they were smooth, ghostly white (had I gotten paler?), slender but firm and strong. I felt confusion creep its way into my face, yet again.

Wasn't I in hell?

I caught the strengthened whiff of what seemed like hyacinth and mint. A low chuckle caught my attention and my head turned towards the sound, a cascade of my brown hair falling over one of my shoulders. It dimly registered how soft and glossy it looked like— brushing away the fact that it might have looked like a nest on top of my head.

My muscles involuntarily stiffened and swiftly, more graceful than I could have imagined myself doing, I had swiveled off the bed. My body was tensed, instinctively crouching in defense at the man who was standing on the doorway with his hands raised on either side of his face— as if to say he meant no harm.

I straightened up slightly, but my muscles never relaxed, prepared to spring at the least sign of attack. I wondered at this new development— wondered at this instinct.

My brow furrowed as I looked at the person standing in the doorway, causing him to chuckle further. It didn't seem like this was the person who detested me. But he looked vaguely familiar. Have I seen him before?

"Hello Isabella. It's good to see you're finally awake." The man spoke with a kind, gentle voice. His voice wasn't velvet, but it contained its own musical perfection.

I stared openly at his face. It was kind and open. What was more was that this person— this creature— was impossibly beautiful.

"I apologize. You must be terribly confused." He smiled kindly and I was reminded, to my surprise, of my father.

Fearing that my voice would break or if I still _had_ a voice, I nodded. I was growing more confused by the minute.

"Why is there an angel in hell?" I whispered to myself, not intending for him to hear.

My hands flew up to my throat in shock. Though I spoke only in a mere whisper, the difference in my voice was hard to not recognize.

"I'm no angel." The angel, to me, smiled patiently. "And you're certainly not in hell." He chuckled again. He must have found this highly amusing.

"But…" I paused, still marveling over my voice. It sounded like I was singing rather than speaking. And that was saying something— I was a horrible singer. "The fire… I'm dead aren't I? I'm in hell?" I pressed.

"Hardly." A soft murmur distracted me from the angel.

My eyes shifted to the figure that just arrived, looming behind the angel. He hid himself in the shadows, his head bent down, making me unable to see anything but his tousled hair. The scent of honey and lilac and sunshine seemed to come from him, and I was mysteriously drawn to the smell. I controlled myself though— It was the man with the smooth, velvet voice.

"You're lying." I narrowed my eyes at the figure. Some resentment made its way into my voice.

He huffed in annoyance. Well, he wasn't the only one who was irritated beyond belief.

"No, he's not lying, Isabella." The angel spoke. I could find only seriousness in his sober tone.

I frowned, and then returned to glaring at the shadow. I could feel the smugness radiating from the corner.

So maybe I wasn't really in hell. The setting greatly contradicted my theory and the angel present greatly helped in falsifying it. And besides, if I _was_ in hell, weren't they supposed to be gloating on and on about my forever hardship and misery? Maybe everything that was happening was just a dream… but the fire, the burning torture felt too real. My non-beating heart told me that I was dead. I knew with all my being that this was all real.

But now that I knew that I wasn't in hell… was I in heaven? Do angels in heaven have that bad an attitude as that creature hiding in the shadows? I could have been quick to judge him but the way he spoke earlier greatly annoyed me— almost infuriated me. And as if to add to that, he wordlessly left as I was pondering over their words.

How rude!

"Fine. I'll humor you." I huffed in a very unladylike manner. "If I'm not in hell then where am I?"

"In our home, at Rochester."

"And where is that, exactly? Why did you bring me here?" I asked in a suddenly apprehensive tone, a hint of fear trailed out without my meaning to. "And who exactly are you?"

An apologetic smile graced his lips as he walked forward and sat at one of the chairs beside my bead. I had a crazy urge to blink, as if looking into direct sunlight, as he came near.

My muscles twitched again, as he sat near me. But I found that I could control them now. At the back of my mind, in my subconscious maybe, something was telling me this person meant no harm.

"I'm deeply sorry. I assumed you would have recognized me… Carlisle Cullen." he paused.

I hear a click in my head as my eyes widened slightly in comprehension. "_Doctor_ Cullen?"

He merely nodded in return.

So I was right. I did know him from somewhere… he worked at our family hospital, though he rarely tended to me. That's why I thought he seemed so familiar. I saw him in passing every time I was at the hospital.

But why was I at his house? And where was his family? I knew from the local gossip that he lived with his wife and her brother, but I never actually seen them in person. A spurt of knowledge came into me. If this really was his house, then the person with the velvety voice, the one with the very appealing scent… was that his wife's brother?

"Why did you bring me here?" I looked inquisitively at him.

He studied my face, and I was struck with the silence that permeated through the room. There was no sound apart from the soft music playing and the turning of the page of a book from the room down below. No sound. Not even… a heartbeat.

Fear crept up my skin as this sunk in. My heart wasn't beating anymore and apparently, so was his.

"What are you?" I whispered, soft as the wind, but I knew he could hear me.

He started out hesitantly, his voice tried to be soothing. "Do you believe in legends Isabella? In myths?"

"It depends on which legends we're talking about." I said, carefully, partially amazed that I could have a calm conversation with a man who had a non-beating heart.

Dr. Cullen was silent for a while and the air around us suddenly wrapped with tension. "Do you believe in vampires?"

I blinked my eyes in surprise. A long moment of silence stretched on before I answered. "Yes."

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**A/N: **So, what do you think? Should I continue? Please review and tell me what you think!^_^


	3. Chapter 2

_"Your hands in mine, when we're intertwined, everything's alright."_

_- 7 things I hate about you, Miley Cyrus_

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**Chapter 2**

Carlisle's eyebrows shot up to the sky. His eyes were swimming with amusement. "Well, that was unexpected," He chuckled at me, "It makes explaining things easier though."

He eyed my stance— I was still tensed up, it was an instinctual thing but I found that as every minute passed by, a portion of my body eventually relaxed. It seemed like the more time I spent with Carlisle, I was also gradually convincing myself that he was someone I didn't need to fear or to be cautious of.

"Why don't we sit down?" He said, gesturing to the chairs beside the hospital bed.

I sat down in front of him, eyeing him with curiosity.

"I'm going to ask you to be very open-minded, Isabella. What I'm about to tell you may be very hard to digest."

"I'll try to be on my best behavior." I frowned. "What is it?"

"Let me ask you first… why do you think myths and legends exist?"

I almost laughed. He sounded like a school teacher. Was he serious? Hmm… he looked sober enough. My brow furrowed as I thought about his question. "I think they exist to cover something up. Something that scholars think best kept out of history books… something that's meant to be a secret so that people can go about their lives normally and without fear and apprehension." I shrugged. "After all, ignorance is bliss."

"That's one way of putting it," He looked impressed, "What most people don't know is that most legends and myths are not just works of fiction. They are actually real stories of events that happened in the past. But as you know, it can't be helped that certain facts are twisted in the wrong light after being passed down through many ears or in most cases, they were deliberately altered to keep people comfortable and at ease— to keep them ignorant of what's really there, as you put it— and to keep things of legends as just that: mythical creatures that are merely created and preserved by the mind."

"One particular legend for example tells us of creatures with the strength of ten men, the speed almost superior to that of light and that they are almost invulnerable to anything aside from wooden sticks, holy water and a certain vegetable," Carlisle had to chuckle at that, "These creatures roam the earth by night and hide during the day for according to legends, sunlight is their mortal enemy. Some say they were born out of the spring of youth—forever young… immortal. In the present though, they are called vampires."

I already knew all of this of course, after reading almost all the books in our library at home. I've read of werewolves and witches, of goblins and faeries and warlocks and elves. As a child, I was drawn to the supernatural. It was very fascinating to me and I believed that somehow, maybe these things really existed. But I distrusted this particular legend. I knew that some parts of these descriptions were false. I knew there was something more. And as Carlisle told me of this particular legend, I became painfully aware of my dead heart yet again. Were the answers I was looking for contained in this story?

"Do you believe in this?"

I shrugged.

His eyes were careful as he said slowly, "Well, you should re-affirm this belief because not believing in the undead would mean not believing in your existence."

"I'm sorry?"

"Isabella, you're part of this legend now."

It took a moment before this sunk in. I could feel the wheels in my head turning at impossible speeds. The beautiful but insane man told me I was part of this myth… Did he really expect me to believe him? I was a… I couldn't even bare to think the word let alone say it out loud for verification. Deep in my mind, I knew that my heart should have been pounding, my palms should have been sweating, my breathing should have been erratic… but none of this came.

"That's nonsensical."

He looked at me sympathetically, "How do you explain that you're still alive but your heart is not beating? And that you are breathing in air but have no need for it? How about your heightened senses? The fire in your throat?"

I was shaking my head rapidly, "This is insane. There has to be another explanation."

Carlisle merely smiled at me patiently. The wisdom in his eyes was hard to overlook… my instincts were telling me that he was telling me the truth. I _was_ part of the undead.

"How am I supposed to believe in all of this?" I whispered, slowly realizing defeat.

"Come. I want to show you something."

I hesitantly stood up and followed him. He led me to a room that was swimming in his scent but was mixed with something like caramel— sweeter than his scent but not overpowering so that it was sickening. He grasped me by the shoulders, cautiously and carefully, and twisted me to my right. What I saw there made my mouth open slightly.

A woman stared back at me. She held her slender body with utmost grace, grace that was evident even in stillness. Her skin was pale white, exuding an almost silver luster as it glowed under the moonlight that was flooding through the monstrous window. Her brown hair cascaded in waves to the middle of her back and shined with its smoothness. Her face almost seemed flush, her pink, full lips were slightly parted, and her eyebrows were straight but perfectly even. Her heart-shaped face was angular, her cheekbones were so lovely. But the most eye-catching was her wide eyes with their frightening crimson irises.

She was impossibly beatific— her beauty was other-worldly and her features striking. The brunette was dazzling. That couldn't possibly…

"Is that… me?" I asked Carlisle in disbelief.

"It is."

"Why do I look different?" Beautiful.

Carlisle looked at me from my reflection. "During the transformation, the venom works through your body fixing all the wounds, correcting all the imperfections, finding a right balance to make us look attractive to our… intended prey."

I flinched at the word.

"It makes it easier for us to draw them in— bait before we reel them in, so to speak."

A pause.

"Then… I really am…" The red eyes that stared back at me were glued to my mind, as if confirming everything Carlisle had told me.

"Yes." He smiled kindly. His patience seemed never-ending.

This was crazy. One minute I thought I was in hell and then I find out I was now an immortal being— a creature of the night.

"Am I dreaming?"

Carlisle chuckled, the loudest I heard from him this evening. "I'm afraid not."

I pinched myself just to make sure. Ouch! Apparently I was wide awake. So… according to Doctor Cullen, I was a vampire.

Good lord, what was I going to do?

My brooding thoughts were interrupted by the soft footsteps out the hall. They were light and slightly tensed. A soft knocking sound sounded as the head of a woman peered through the open door. It was the 'someone' who had the caramel-like scent. Again, no heartbeat.

Carlisle started. He walked to the woman, wrapping an arm around her waist as he stood next to her. "Isabella, this is my wife Esme."

She smiled at me softly. The kindness etched around her lips reminded me of my mother, but that didn't stop my muscles from tensing— instinctual, once again. Her face was sweet, her brown hair silky, and an almost maternal air hung around her.

"It's very nice to meet you, Isabella." Her voice was so melodious.

I smiled, shyly to me, at her, "It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Cullen."

"Please, call me Esme."

My smile slightly grew wider. I found myself more at ease at her presence.

"I brought some clothes for you. They may be a little big but they'll have to do for now, I'm sorry about that, dear."

The endearment sounded so natural coming from her lips. It was hard to remember that she was also a… vampire. She handed me the clothes that were neatly folded in her arms and I took it from her gratefully.

I was aware that I was merely dressed in a hospital gown and I deeply appreciated her thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

"The bathroom is through there. I'll be right here if you need any help." Esme smiled warmly.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Carlisle was scanning the bookshelf in the corner of the room and Esme was standing in front of the closet, sorting through clothes. They stopped whatever they were doing when they heard the door to the bathroom close behind me. I couldn't help but notice how synchronized their movements were to the other— like two magnets, attracting each other with the same and equal force.

Carlisle suggested that we head downstairs and I obliged. Esme said that she would just follow soon after. I stayed a step behind Carlisle as we descended the vast staircase.

As we reached the last landing, two rooms were on either side of us leading to other rooms, I surmised. To the left was a room where a sleek, black piano sat at the center— music sheets were scattered on top of the keys. On the right side was, I supposed, the family room. The fireplace was huge, stone carvings framing the lit wood. It was a stunning room. Each piece of furniture different but complementing the other like pieces of a puzzle. But the furniture was not what caught my attention.

I had known of the inhuman beauty of the Cullens ever since they moved here in Rochester. Tales of how lovely the female was, how beautiful the males were, it all circulated through town like wild fire. I was skeptical of these stories, however, fully knowing how wild and blown out of proportion gossip was after being passed through hundreds of ears.

Now though, after seeing Carlisle and Esme, I felt a little ashamed at myself because now, I knew the rumors were true. He was unbelievably beautiful for a male and she was like a present-day snow white. They were incredibly beautiful.

However, standing here at the bottom of the Cullens' grand staircase, with my infallible eye, I found myself mocking those rumors once again as I gazed at, what I supposed, the youngest member of their family. He was not beautiful… He was beyond description.

Handsome, beautiful, breathtaking… all of these adjectives could never suffice. The need for making a new vocabulary just to express his beauty was highly appealing.

He was younger than Carlisle and Esme, that I was sure of. He was extraordinarily blinding. If beauty could be shown through visual brightness, he would have made the sun cower at his mere presence.

He sat there languidly, effortlessly stunning, a book in his hand with both feet propped up on the other side of the love seat, with an aloof expression as he turned to face me. He frowned as he glanced at Carlisle, bringing my attention to his full, pink lips and strong jaw. As he stood up in one fluid motion, placing the book lightly on the edge of his seat, his fingers ran through his striking bronze hair making some silken locks fall over and frame his brow. His hair framed his face and reached down to the nape of his neck and though it was kept as tidy as possible, it stilled looked a bit disheveled (A/N: see my vision of Edward for this story in my profile page. Follow the link.). I found the urge to run _my_ fingers through them.

Bad Bella! Not good. This guy hates you, remember? And you, in return, don't like him.

It's his attitude I don't like, I argued to myself. Now shut up and let me appreciate the masterpiece before me like it was intended to be.

He could have been perfect— the Adonis that every girl dreamed of. But his attitude, or at least my first impression of it, was a downfall. And first impressions do count, after all. Not that I cared of what others thought about me to put much mind into making a good impression; not at all… not unless my parents told me to.

He looked at me, then. He was still frowning but now a curious, almost disappointed look came into his eyes. At least he wasn't sneering at me. I found that I was distracted again as I met his gaze.

His eyes were a darker shade than that of his 'parents', closer to ocher than gold but… why did _his _eyes seem to swim in molten gold? Why did the gold in there seem different from Carlisle and Esme's? Impossibly, I thought it was more breathtaking than theirs. I found myself shrink from my insecurities as he continued to look at me, as if trying to solve a huge puzzle.

Standing in front of this inhumanly beautiful, perfect bronze-haired boy, I seemed to think less of myself. I was always plain— with my brown hair and dull brown eyes— and in front of him, even when I already knew that I was transformed into something that took my breath away earlier, I felt like I was suddenly less than that. He was exquisite and godly, as compared to me who was… normal and boring.

"Isabella, this is my son, Edward." I cringed at his use of my full name. I couldn't correct him though, it was improper to not use one's full name in the company of an acquaintance. "Edward, you know Isabella Hale."

I suddenly found myself unsure of what to do.

Should I say hello? Smile at him? Shake his hand? Or growl at him for his irritating attitude a while ago? I merely settled for a nod; not too friendly but at the same time, not too distant.

He merely sighed and frowned deeper. "Who doesn't know her?"

I almost forgot the annoyance I felt towards him after seeing him in all his glory, but this act brought all the irritation back. The thick tension in the atmosphere between us couldn't be denied.

Carlisle cleared his throat and addressed Edward. "Your mother and I need to take care of some things. I assume that you'll do what is expected of you, son."

He merely glanced at Carlisle and I thought that the frown in his face would be permanently etched there by the end of the day. He gave him a subtle nod.

Carlisle sighed and turned to face me, offering me a small smile. "Please feel at home, Isabella. Esme and I should be back shortly."

I felt displeasure find itself in my features as I glanced at Edward. I don't think I would survive with just him in the house. Carlisle saw the face that I made and chuckled as he walked to the door. Esme was at my side in a second, giving me a motherly hug, and then, they were both gone.

I was rooted on the spot, unsure of what to do next. Edward had sunk back down on the couch and resumed his reading. The only noise in the room was that of him turning a page from his book. Guessing he probably wouldn't move for maybe a few more hours, I settled myself on the base of the staircase. The dress Esme lent me was far too big for me so I had to be careful of the trail— then I suddenly remembered that I wasn't a complete klutz anymore.

I hugged my knees closer to my chest and rested my cheek on them, realizing only now how vulnerable and alone I felt… and how parched my throat seemed to be. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle though. Maybe when Carlisle arrived I could ask him…

In the back of my mind, I dimly registered a sigh. I blinked and Edward was suddenly kneeling in front of me. His abrupt appearance shocked me senseless. His enthrallingly appealing scent made my muscles more relaxed— which was odd since they instinctually tensed when Carlisle and Esme went close to me— but then I remembered how close he was. I visibly stiffened at the close proximity.

As close as he was, I could see the flawless, pale complexion of his skin. His nose was straight, his face was angular. Everything was balanced, each feature complimenting the other. Any model would kill to have skin like his… maybe they would even murder an entire town just to have his beauty.

"How are you holding up?" he muttered. "Does your throat hurt?"

He didn't even look at me as he spoke. Was I that unappealing? I felt irritated, yet again. I merely shrugged.

"Come on," he sighed, standing up, "we need to hunt."

A trill of fear made its way through me at the word. I couldn't. I didn't want to. I shook my head desperately, knowing that the fear shone brightly through my eyes.

His eyebrows shot up as he finally looked at me. His dark amber eyes made me shrink back a bit. "Aren't you thirsty?"

I frowned up at him, embarrassed to say that I was afraid.

He frowned in return. "Well, I can't just leave you here. You might catch a human's scent and run off after it. That's highly unlikely of course, but I don't want to take any chances."

The indignation of his words caused my eyes to widen with shock. Did he really think so little of me? I stood up abruptly, a growl forming in my chest. "I can take care of myself."

"Hmm." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Of course you can." The disbelief in his voice was evident. "But not as a new-born."

"Yes, I can." Indignation flamed in my eyes.

"Didn't Carlisle tell you how uncontrollable the thirst is during your first year? The thirst may be manageable as of this moment, but there aren't any sources of blood close enough for your senses to catch," His eyes hardened as he took an unnecessary breath, "Once you are exposed though, you won't be able to control yourself no matter how much you believe you can. You're too easily distracted. That's just how things are as a new-born. Every movement, every action is based solely on instinct."

"I won't be like that." I gritted my teeth, controlling the wave of annoyance that washed through my body at his prejudiced words. "Do whatever you want. I'll take care of myself."

There was a long pause and I thought I had won the argument. But it wasn't so.

"Maybe," His eyes turned disapproving but, what was that? Was that a hint of humor? "But as of the moment, taking care of you is my job."

Without warning, he grabbed my hand and pulled me along, ignoring my muttered protests. I felt shocked at his casual touch and if I were still alive, my heart would have skipped a bit. My gaze rested on the hand that held mine and I suddenly felt warm all over as I followed him out the door. This new body felt so foreign to me. I should be blushing right now, but I wasn't.

His hand felt so smooth and soft as it held mine securely, but at the same time it was hard and strong. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I was about to struggle and demand that he release me, futile the attempt may be on my part, when he stopped abruptly and I bumped into his back, not really focusing on where I was going. I waited for the impact of the floor but Edward was faster than the gravitational pull.

I felt his arms encircle my waist and steady me on my feet. As soon as he was sure I was balanced, he let go of me. I let my hair fall down to cover my face, utterly embarrassed at my clumsiness, ignoring the electric shock I felt at his surprisingly gentle touch. I heard him cough, noticing the laughter he tried to conceal. I looked up, my embarrassment forgotten, quickly replaced with irritation. I was surprised at the sight. His eyes were wickedly amused.

"I've never seen a vampire fall down before."

Edward flashed me a crooked smile and I was temporarily disarmed. Could it be possible for him to be even more beautiful? Angels should be singing in his glory right about now. It was the first time I've seen him without his brow furrowed, without his lips turned down into a scowl, without his eyes glowering at me. The upward curve on his lips right now looked much better than his frowning face.

Then as if he heard my thoughts, he caught himself, and the smile vanished as quickly as it had come. He was frowning again and I found that it was quite infectious.

"Maybe having you around won't be as bad as I imagined." He muttered, to himself most like. But that didn't change the fact that I heard him.

Why was it that when I was starting to appease myself over my dislike of him, he would utter words that would bring the contempt racing back? I scowled up at him and immediately, his face went back to its earlier aloof expression.

"Come on, I'll race you."

He ran, quicker than lightning, not waiting for a response. I was surprised at his challenge but pleased at the chance to prove myself. Why I did what he told me to do, I had no idea. But purely on instinct, impulsively, I followed him. The wind rushed past us we ran, silently, through the night.

* * *

**A/N: So, our first, proper, Bella and Edward interaction. I actually enjoyed this chapter very much. But it was so hard to think of how Carlisle should tell Bella that she was an immortal now. Hope that worked out. More Edward and Bella in the next chapter so review if you want it up faster. ;)**


	4. Chapter 3

__

"The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy."

~Jim Rohn

"Being out of control is one of the worst feelings in the world, sometimes even worse than pain. It is its own kind of pain."

_~Danzae Pace_

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Close your eyes," his voice was smooth velvet, easily heard over the rustling leaves.

I did as I was told.

"Now listen."

From the way Edward's sweet breath fanned across my face, I knew he was just inches away from me. Suddenly, I was wary of closing my eyes.

"Use your senses. Be aware of everything that's around you."

Again, I did as I was told. Why did I trust him so easily? But I still let go, submitting to my senses. I was hit with a thousand bricks.

Edward's scent was the most potent. The smell of sunshine, honey and lilac made my already relaxed muscles soften even more. His every breath was in sync with mine. I could almost feel his skin touching mine… Wait! I needed to focus on something other than him… I tried again.

Now, I could feel each caress of the air brushing along my skin. I could hear each leaf rustling independently but moving in complete harmony with the others. I heard the gushing of a river west from where we were situated. And there, only a few meters away, the faint but rapid beating of a heart, and the smell of thick and rich liquid that made my mouth produce excess venom and my throat burn.

"Do you hear it?"

I nodded my head. My muscles were tensed— ready to run and attack.

"Then go."

My feet kicked off from the ground and I was gliding through the trees without a sound. My instincts took over me. My eyes zeroed in on a mountain lion, sleeping on the ground. Now, that won't be any fun— not even a slight fight? I growled; the bell- like sound turned into a feline shout. The lion jumped and was suddenly alert. But still, it was no match for me. I pounced on it, eager to satisfy the burning in my throat. It raised its claw and striked. I almost laughed— the sensation was just like feathers brushing along my skin. I pinned the lion in one easy movement and sank my teeth into its neck. The warm liquid poured into my mouth. It was dull, unappetizing, but it was thick and rich and it slightly appeased the burning so who was I to complain?

When I was sure I got each and every drop of blood the lion could provide me, I stood up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. My clothes were a mess— there were huge, gaping holes on different corners and blood stained most of the front part. A disapproving sound came from behind me and I twisted around to see.

"I suppose we need to work on that." Edward murmured and his head was turned away from me. "We can't let you destroy every article of clothing you have whenever we hunt, now can we?"

I was about to answer back but my head snapped to the right, my senses having caught another scent. It was duller and impossibly more unappetizing than the first, but it caused my throat to itch. I looked back at Edward questioningly. Wait, why was I asking his permission?

He raised an eyebrow, amused and gestured with his hand toward the smell. "Do as you please."

I took off again. This time it was a deer. I was much faster finishing it this time. It didn't take more than five seconds. At least, my clothing wasn't more ruptured afterwards.

"Better," I heard Edward say appreciatively, "you're doing well for a new born."

I saw him leaning beside a tree, a meter away. I think his eyes were growing darker.

"Aren't you going to hunt?"

"Are you satiated yet?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I briefly considered that. "My throat doesn't hurt anymore."

He nodded and straightened up. "I'll hunt now, then. Wait here."

Before I could say anything, he took off. I huffed in annoyance. I refused to wait here alone. If he could watch me hunt, then shouldn't I be able to watch him too? In a split second, I ran after him, following his scent.

I wondered how it looked like to an outsider when we were hunting. Of course to humans, they would probably run away, screaming. But to one of our kind, how do we look like while attacking our prey?

A soft growl made me stop in my tracks. I looked ahead and there, a few trees in front of me, was Edward. I walked till I reached the clearing and leaned against a tree like Edward did a while ago. My eyes couldn't leave the sight before me. I was sure I didn't look anything like that a while ago.

Edward hunting was an indescribable sight. No words could possibly express the fierce, hair-standing beauty of the spectacle my eyes had so much difficulty to hold. He was fast, incredibly so, but I could see every tiny detail, every leap, every calm breath he took as if the scene happening in front of me was in slow motion.

His movements were fluid, graceful but sharp with precision. The moonlight glinted off of his smooth, pale skin making it glow like a creamy river under the moon's fluorescence. The wind caressed his bronze hair, making the strands dance along with the soft current of air. His eyes were focused on his prey— the hunger in them was apparent with their pitch black color. His gaze was smoldering, unrelenting as his eyes tracked the lion's every feeble movement, every pounce and every strike of its claw— it was enough to let anyone tremble in fear. And then without warning, he leapt without a sound; the power he exerted on his legs was minimal but enough to send both him and the lion flying making only his back visible to me. The lion never stood a chance against him. Edward bent his head down, and I was sure he was already taking the lion as the bland scent of blood tainted the air. Even with only the moonlight, I could see the different colors of his hair— ranging from light brown, to copper and some almost red. Each strand different but created an intricate mosaic of beauty to achieve the bronze color. The breeze grew softer, but each strand was still dancing, waltzing with the passing air as he drank in his prey's blood.

I was enthralled. How can such beauty exist in some place other than heaven?

Edward dug a hole and threw the carcass in it. Then he stood up in one graceful movement, dusting off the minimal dirt on his shirt. He hunted so neatly— not a drop of blood stained his shirt. As opposed to mine which could pass off as a rag; it was torn in different places and the red blood shone even in the dim moonlight.

I sighed as I looked down on my shirt— Esme's shirt, more appropriately. I was not cut out to hunt. Not at all. And I would have to replace the shirt Esme lent me, how embarrassing.

"It's alright for you to be a mess. It's just your first hunt." Edward's voice was distant again. "It'll get better after a few times."

I merely nodded. I heard him sigh so I looked up at him questioningly.

"I told you to stay." His tone was disapproving.

It caused annoyance to bubble up in my chest. "You watched me hunt. I wanted to see what it looked like."

His fingers ran through his hair. His eyes diverted away from me. "You could have gotten too close to me. I could have attacked you unconsciously," He murmured, his voice so soft I almost had difficulty to hear.

"Oh." I bent my head down and heard him sigh again.

I looked up and the moment I did, my eyes dropped back to the ground. I knew I couldn't blush anymore, but I swore that my cheeks definitely heated up.

"What are you doing?" I was so flustered; it was amazing my face wasn't burning red.

"I can't let you go back looking like that," He thrust his shirt into my hand, almost causing me to drop it, "Esme will murder me."

"W- well, you can't go back without a shirt." I stammered.

"Who said I was going back without something on?" his tone was flat.

I risked looking up at him and suddenly felt embarrassed. He still had an undershirt on. How stupid of me to assume he was wearing just a shirt. I ducked my head in apology.

I heard him sigh again, and I resisted the urge to do the same. Seriously, were things always going to be this difficult between us? I couldn't imagine living with him for the rest of eternity if it were.

Wait. _Was_ I going to stay with the Cullens? Carlisle didn't exactly invite me to stay with them… in fact, he didn't tell me anything aside from what I had become. He and Esme had been welcoming enough though… but it wasn't good to assume that they would allow me to stay with them. I wouldn't want to impose if I was an unwelcome guest amidst their presence. But if I couldn't stay with them, then where was I going to go? What was I going to do? I didn't want to wander alone forever— no reason for existing, no sense of direction, nothing to live for. That would be unbearable.

"Is something wrong?"

I looked up, startled at hearing Edward's voice. He looked at me strangely, almost as if he was… concerned. Hah. As if that would ever happened.

I shook my head and looked away, well aware of the sadness that could probably be seen through my eyes.

He sighed _again_. Honestly, was that a habit for him?

"We should head back now. Unless…" he paused, trying to look for the right words, "Are you sure you're not thirsty anymore?"

I nodded, still unwilling to look him in the eyes. "And you?"

There was a slight pause, then. "I'm fine. Let's go."

I was startled out of my wits as Edward suddenly grabbed by hand and pulled me into running with him. The electric current appeared again at the contact. I wondered whether it was all me or if he felt the tingling shock too. I dimly wanted to tug my hand out of his, but wouldn't that be impolite? But then again, if I allowed him to hold it in his grasp, wouldn't that mean that I was alright with him touching me? Ugh. Maybe I was reading into things too much.

When I finally gathered enough courage to yank my hand out of his, he slowed to a stop and let go of my hand immediately. Once again, I was thankful I couldn't turn red anymore— but this time because of anger. Who did he think he is, throwing away my hand like that?

"If you want to stay here all day, fine by me," Edward murmured, "Personally though, I wouldn't like to listen to Carlisle telling me off for leaving you outside."

Irritation made its way into my features. Frankly, I didn't know I would ever find someone that would annoy me to hell. "Oh? Then I'll just stay here." I smirked up at him. I would love hearing Carlisle scold him like a little boy.

He glared at me and I had to put up an effort to appear like it didn't bother me at all. Truthfully though, he was pretty intimidating when he glowered at me like that.

"Don't make me do something that _you_ would regret." He warned me.

I raised my eyebrows at him. As if. "As if."

"You asked for it," he muttered under his breath.

In one, smooth movement, Edward lifted me off my feet causing me to yelp in surprise. He carried me, bridal style of all things, into the house. All the while I was so sure my cheeks were red with embarrassment, though I knew that was not possible anymore. I struggled against him and he finally put me down when we reached the living room.

I listened carefully. Thank god it seemed like Carlisle and Esme weren't here yet.

"What did you do that for?!" I clenched my fists. Hitting someone was very un-lady like. I could have cared less at the moment, but I couldn't really flaw my parents' self-proclaimed 'good breeding'.

"I did warn you."

Edward's lips were pressed into a fine line, like he was holding back laughter. This fueled my anger, and my embarrassment, even more.

"You're impossible." I gritted my teeth, averting my gaze from his exquisite but fury-inducing face.

He sighed. "I wish you would stop being so difficult." I wish he would stop with the sighing already.

"Wish all you want then." I challenged.

His dark eyes narrowed at me and I almost flinched away from it. Wait! _Dark_ eyes? He was still thirsty? I felt every part of my body being irrationally covered with anger.

"You lied to me!" I almost all but yelled.

Edward's fierce expression disappeared as his eyes widened with surprise, confusion coloring them. "What are you talking about?"

I huffed in frustration. "You told me you weren't thirsty anymore, but you still are."

He frowned. "It's not a problem. I can always go hunting later."

"Then you could have told me that. You didn't have to lie." I was still angry.

"Why does it matter to you so much?" I could see his eyes harden, but I wasn't going to back down.

"Because I hate it when people lie to me," I gritted my teeth, trying hard to control myself, "It doesn't matter how small or big or for what reason. It's still a lie."

I glared at him and Edward's eyes avoided mine. He ran his fingers through his hair again. "It's just… It's difficult for me having to hunt and look out for you at the same time. It's quite problematic to do."

I didn't know why, but I felt as if someone was suffocating me. As much as I hated him, his words hurt me. I didn't want to put much care into how Edward saw me, but I found that I did. So that's how he perceived me— nothing more than a problem, someone who needed baby-sitting all the time… dead weight. I knew, from the first time he opened his mouth that, he didn't accept me. I was an unwelcome intruder into his family's secret life. But I didn't know he hated me so much that all he thought of me was a burden… a huge weight that he would gladly relieve himself of.

"Am I that much of a hindrance to you?" I whispered, biting my lower lip.

Edward looked up and his eyes widened. He stared back into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze seemed like it was burning a hole straight into my soul. Then suddenly, in a blink of an eye, I was facing a completely different Edward.

His expression visibly softened. The distaste in features disappeared completely and the concern I thought I heard in his voice a while ago? I could see it now. It was as plain and true as the rising sun. But these weren't what caused me to hold back a gasp.

What shocked me the most was his eyes. The dark gold orbs weren't flat and cold as it was earlier this evening. Suddenly, they were filled with depth and intensity. They too softened as he stared back into my eyes. Looking into them was like falling into an endless void of complex emotions.

I was shocked. This was not the Edward who frowned and scowled and huffed in annoyance since the moment my transformation was far enough that my senses became heightened. This was an Edward I didn't find annoying. This was someone I didn't scowl at in return. This was someone I could bear to live with for as long as I lived— if I _would _live with the Cullens. This was an Edward I liked— an Edward I wanted to stay… an Edward I somehow understood.

It was like something he saw in my eyes triggered him to bring down the invisible wall that was masking his real emotions. I could see them now— every flicker and change of emotion. It was so beautiful. His eyes were as clear as a crystal lake, making me see what they truly held. I would have been undergoing palpitations if my heart was still beating as his eyes smoldered under his thick lashes.

Then he sighed. The simple act, though it was for the nth time already, seemed so hard for him to accomplish at the moment. I found my heart being pulled in pity and concern.

"I didn't mean for it to seem like that." Edward's eyes burned with sincere apology.

Why couldn't this be the Edward I met when I woke up? Why did it have to be the difficult, stubborn Edward that didn't care for me?

And before I could let myself trust in his words, before I could even open my mouth to utter a decent reply, his eyes shut down again— impossibly faster than when his walls fell. His eyes weren't soft anymore. Though they were still somewhat open, they were already partly cold.

I suddenly wondered whether everything I saw in him a while ago was real. As I looked at Edward now, the distant and aloof Edward, frustration came back into my system. His words suddenly seemed so unreal to my ears and my former argument made its way to my lips.

"I don't really blame you. I never asked you to take care of me…" I chuckled bitterly. "If I knew how spiteful my life would be after Carlisle turned me, I would never have consented for him to save me."

I suddenly felt resentment towards Carlisle's compassion and kindness. He should have just ended my life when he found me on the street, brought an end to my suffering. It would have been easier and I wouldn't have had to experience that horrible burning. I wouldn't be plagued with blurry but gruesome memories of my human life.

"Things would have been better that way right? I would be buried ten feet below the ground, I would never have troubled your existence, and you wouldn't be here, hating my guts." I looked at him blankly, knowing how true my words were.

I waited for him to say something. But he just stood there, looking at me as his eyes made its way back into their normal emotionless state.

I shook my head, almost bitterly, and turned towards the stairs, planning to go to their guestroom to cool my head off. I was stopped in my tracks when I heard him whisper.

"I don't hate you, Bella."

I trill of shock made its way through my spine. What did he call me? Why did he…? _How _did he…? And his voice, it was so soft, but my ears couldn't deny the hurt underlying his tone. Maybe I was delusional at the moment. _This _Edward, hurt? As if.

I whipped around to face him, wanting to see for myself. But all that I got was disappointment and unease, painting every pore of my skin. All I saw was Edward's retreating figure, as he made his way out through the door.

* * *

**A/N: Soooo? ^_^ How was it? This chapter is shorter than the others but at least it had more Bella-Edward interactions. It was quite difficult too. The plot in my head keeps changing constantly; only some points are really set in stone. Anyway, please review people. I was disappointed at the few reviews I got for the previous chapters. It made it harder to update. Tsk.**


	5. Chapter 4

"_I don't mean to run but every time you come around, I feel more alive than ever and I guess it's too much."__  
-Adore, Paramore_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

I was at one of the spare bedrooms, the one I woke up in, when Carlisle and Esme arrived a few minutes after me and… _him_ (I refused to even think his name). I went downstairs to greet the couple, who were already smiling before I even reached the bottom landing.

In between them were boxes of different sizes. I wondered what could be in them but I didn't ask— it seemed horribly intruding of me. I didn't need to ask though. Carlisle ushered me forward and asked me to open them. Intrigued and partly shy, I did so slowly. A distant throbbing echoed in my chest as I gazed at the contents.

They were some of my belongings— clothes, shoes, hats, books… a little of everything of my former life. I suddenly ached at the thought of my parents. What would they think? How would they cope with my sudden disappearance? I wasn't exactly their favorite daughter but I wasn't an unmanageable child that they would find reason to be thankful that I was gone. Would they even miss me or bother searching for me? I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind first.

"Thank you but… how did you manage to get my things?"

"It was easy. No one was near your bedroom."

"How did you know which bedroom was mine?" Guests always managed to get themselves lost whenever they stayed for the night. The house wasn't exactly a shoebox— it was colossal.

"It was where your scent was strongest, naturally. So we had a very easy time finding it," Carlisle smiled.

"Oh. Well, thank you. Again," I mumbled awkwardly.

"You're very welcome, Isabella."

I flinched at the use of my full name. I hated it before but now it sounded so wrong… Especially after hearing _him _say _"Bella."_

There was silence, the length of a heartbeat, and then Carlisle smiled.

"I think there are still some things that need to be settled," he spoke both to me and Esme, "but I think it would be better if Edward were to join us. Is that fine with you, Isabella?"

I had half a mind to say that it wasn't but that would have been rude. I shrugged, "Of course."

Carlisle frowned suddenly, "Hmm. Where is he?"

"He went out to hunt, I think."

"He didn't take you out to hunt with him?" Displeasure colored Carlisle's tone.

"He did," I almost smiled, thinking of the trouble _he_ would get into when he arrived, "but he wasn't able to hunt, so…"

Esme was shaking her head in disapproval. "But he shouldn't have left you alone. What if something happened to you?"

"It's fine," I was starting to get annoyed with all their concern. It was nice of them to look out for me, but really, what could possibly happen to me in their own house?

Just then, I looked to the door as someone's footsteps grew louder. _He_ came in, his hair more disheveled after running. His eyes were lighter now, all the more striking, as they flashed up to us as we watched him enter the house.

"She's fine. I made sure no one's scent was near enough for her to catch while I was gone."

Huh? Who was he talking to?

"You know no one goes near this part of the forest. That wouldn't have been possible." He muttered, once again to no one.

Did he usually talk to himself?

"No."

Wait, did I say that out loud? No, I'm pretty sure I didn't. So did he just answer my thoughts?

But he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Carlisle and Esme and they were both staring at him, wearing identical frowns.

"Why? What is she to me?"

Suddenly, he was glaring at me. What was his problem?

"Edward!" Esme shot him a reproving look.

He huffed in frustration and turned his back on us as he sauntered towards the living room. He sat down and resumed reading the book he left on the small table.

"I don't care," He murmured under his breath.

Carlisle sighed, turning back to me. "I'm sorry, that was rude of us."

I stared at him blankly.

"We were having a conversation without including you. I apologize."

"Conversation?"

"There are still a lot of things you need to learn about our lifestyle Isabella." Carlisle smiled patiently at me and led the way to the living room, Esme in tow.

He gestured for me to sit, and I sat as far away from_ him_ as possible.

"You must have a lot of questions, have you not?"

"Just a little," I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

"Go ahead then."

I glanced at Carlisle from underneath my lashes, still a little shy to look at him in the eyes. I couldn't help but notice Esme frowning at _him— _he sat with his eyes on the book, pretending as if no one was around… as if _I _wasn't around…

"Why are my eyes different from yours?"

Carlisle looked amused at my question. "You still have human blood in your body. Your eye color will change to gold if you choose to follow our diet."

"Why, is there another choice?" I frowned.

His lips twitched. "We call ourselves vegetarians, because our way of hunting is unnatural for vampires. Drinking from animals rather than our natural food source sustains us, but it never fully satisfies us. It's the cause for our eye color too, as you have noticed. So if you choose to… hunt normally," he frowned, "your eyes will remain as they are."

His casualness at saying the word 'vampire' shocked me. "Normally?"

"To drink from humans."

My eyes widened and I shook my head furiously. "I don't want to kill people."

Carlisle and Esme visibly relaxed. Did they really think I would opt for murder just to have a decent snack?

"Well then, should I say 'Welcome to the family'?"

My eyes snapped to _him_. His face was blank from emotion.

"That is," Carlisle continued, "if you want to stay with us."

"You're letting me stay?" I asked Carlisle.

"We would love to have you," Esme smiled, a motherly smile, with her eyes alight with kindness. I found myself softening as I smiled back brightly at her.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome, dear."

A short silence passed and my eyes glided towards Carlisle again. He was waiting patiently, ready for more questions. Truly, I had a lot in mind. But most of them seemed silly… even childish to some extent.

"Do I have to only go out at night or have to sleep in a coffin or something?"

Carlisle coughed to hide his laugh this time. Esme couldn't help but let a soft, enchanting giggle escape her. And I could have sworn I saw _him_ smile behind the book. But when I glanced back to check, there was no sign of even a grin.

"No, you don't have to go out only at night, but we can't let humans see us in the sunlight on the rare days that the sun does overcome the clouds here," Carlisle smiled again, "The sunlight causes our skin to sparkle, you see… not very inconspicuous."

We _sparkle_? Well, that was unexpected. "And the coffin?"

His smile faltered a little. "We don't sleep, Isabella."

"At all?" my eyes widened.

"Not a wink."

I was silent for a while. "Wow. But, what is there to do all night?"

_He_ coughed with what sounded like amusement.

"We…" Carlisle and Esme looked at each other, unsure what to say.

Oh. _Oh_.

"Oh," My eyes widened with horror. How could I have asked that? "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's alright Isabella," Carlisle smiled at me, chuckling. "There are other things… Night is the chance to do things you've always wanted to do. Edward, for example, is a magnificent musician. And he is very well rounded because of all the spare time."

Oh. So _he_ didn't have an Esme like Carlisle. Hmm. No wonder he was so crabby all the time.

"Um… you mentioned a while ago, you were having a conversation… without including me?"

"Ah. Yes. How do I explain this?" his eyes flickered to Edward, "Isabella, when we are changed, we bring over a certain… gift, I suppose you can say, and this gift is intensified. Edward here has always had a good perspective on what other people were thinking. As a result, when I changed him, he obtained the ability to read minds."

I suddenly felt horribly nervous. "He can read minds?"

Carlisle and Esme looked at _him_, waiting.

_His _brow furrowed and he sighed, "Apart from yours."

I blinked, a smile slowly forming on my lips. "You can't read my mind?"

"It seems like that."

"Is there something wrong with me?" I frowned.

This time, a flicker of a smile did come to his lips, "Maybe."

Esme gave him a reproving look. "Of course there isn't anything wrong with you, dear."

I wondered idly if that really were the case. I mean, shouldn't a normal person be at the verge of lunacy if she were placed in my situation? What kind of person would be so calm and collected after finding out she was now one of the living dead?

And then I thought of Carlisle and Esme and _him._

Looking at them as a whole, as a family, it didn't seem so bad… being a vampire. It looked bearable, if you had someone by your side, if you had someone to share eternity with. In flashes, time passed through my mind. I saw what could be, given all the time that was given to me. Living forever didn't necessarily have to be a curse. It could also be treated as a gift.

Gift… I wonder if my gift would be something similar to _his_, or if I would have a gift at all.

"Can you and Carlisle read minds too?" I asked Esme.

"No," she smiled, "Carlisle brought with him his compassion…"

"… and Esme brought her ability to love unconditionally," Carlisle said, wrapping his arms around Esme.

I stared at the happy couple, wondering how it felt like having someone to be with for eternity.

"Do you have any more questions?"

"Not as of the moment."

"Then Edward will show you to your room."

My eyes flashed to _him_, expecting him to argue with Carlisle. But his face remained impassive as he stood up and grabbed all the boxes at my side.

"You don't have to…"

My words were cut off as his eyes flashed to mine, glaring, with the gold solidifying.

I kept my mouth shut as he led me up the spiraling staircase. He passed two doors before coming to a stop at the end of the hall. Having his hands full, he motioned for me to open the door for him. I blinked rapidly as my eyes surveyed the massive room. Apart from a few essentials that were placed strategically against the walls, the middle of the room was quite bare.

The walls were an off-white color— ecru-like— and a golden-brown, fur carpet covered the huge floor. There was a huge glass door, the frames bordered with wrought iron vines and flowers, which led out to a balcony. On the south end of the room was another door leading, I surmised, to the closet or the bathroom. A little ways beside the door was a vanity table; the circular mirror was bordered with, yet again, wrought iron vines, splayed with rusted gold. On either side of the mirror, the vines spread out to form ledges. And on one corner of the room, there was a black love seat, with black, red and brown cushions placed around it. I could see myself living here for quite a while, in fairness.

The soft thud of boxes brought me out of my mooning.

The bathroom is there," he spoke in a detached voice, pointing to the door beside the vanity, "and inside the bathroom is another door leading to your closet."

He turned to leave, not even waiting for a reply.

"Are you sure?"

He stopped, his head turning slightly to my direction, "Of course I am. This is_ my_ house."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what?" He huffed, frustrated, as he looked at me.

"You can barely stand staying in the same room as me, you refuse to talk to me unless you really have something to say, you frown every time you look at me… Are you really sure you can stand living with me for the rest of eternity?"

"Well, we can't just let a new-born wander around the streets, now can we?"

I sighed. "Why do you hate me?"

"I already answered that," he huffed again.

"No, you didn't," I countered, not remembering him answer it the first time I asked him.

"I told you, I don't hate you."

"Much," I muttered.

Then he smiled, a small grin, but it instantly softened his features.

"Then why do you act like this?" I pushed, wanting things to be settled. I can't live for an eternity wondering what I did to cause offense.

He averted his eyes, the beautiful lopsided grin slipping from his lips, "That's a good question," he murmured.

I almost growled in frustration, "And that wasn't a very good answer."

Then his eyes flashed to mine, as if looking through my soul. The sadness etched in them was hard to not recognize. "I'm sorry."

Before I could open my mouth to speak, he was out through the door. But I couldn't let this go anymore. We would be living in the same roof for… who knows how long? The least we could do was to try to get along, no matter how hard that may seem.

I rushed out the door and down the stairs, following his scent out through the front door and into the forest. I ran through the trees, the wind rushing past me and stopped a few feet from where he stood, leaning against a tree branch. His troubled face was glowing in the darkness because of its paleness. The sorrow was clear in his expression and although he looked to be no more than seventeen or eighteen, his eyes showed suffering that was meant for someone beyond his years. It was almost painful to look at such beauty.

"Why did you run away?"

"Why do you keep asking questions?" he murmured.

My lips twitched, "It's in my nature. And I'm starting to see that dodging questions is in your nature."

He remained immobile, staring ahead of him but at nothing in particular.

I sighed. "Wouldn't it be unbearable if we continue on like this forever? I just want to fix things."

He looked at me then, slightly amused. "How do you propose to do that?"

"Maybe we just got off from the wrong foot."

"I wasn't aware that there was a 'right foot'," he mused.

Oh, so now he develops a sense of humor? "I'm serious."

His face turned serious too, "Sorry."

"Let's start again, shall we?" I breathed in, and extended my right hand forward, knowing that I won't be getting answers as of now.

He stared at it but made no sign of accepting the truce I offered. I slowly put it down, feeling quite disheartened. If I were still human, angry tears would be swelling up in my eyes and my cheeks would be flaming red.

"You really don't want to get along, do you?"

He was still staring at my hand as he answered, "I…"

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

I was startled as his eyes flashed up to meet mine, filled with fury. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"Then what's the problem? Why is it that you seem to despise me so much?"

"You don't understand," he muttered.

"Then make me understand! Tell me," I growled, losing my temper.

In the heat of the moment, I didn't realize that we were so close to each other that we were almost touching. As soon as I realized this though, a foreign tingling feeling surged through my body, starting from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Instantly, I backed away.

I huffed in frustration and at his silence and slowly, I slumped until I was sitting down the forest floor, feeling so defeated and lost. Everything was in a haze. Why couldn't we just get along? Why was he acting so indifferent and… spiteful? Through my whirling confusion, I didn't realize that he had moved. And as I blinked, my eyesight focusing, he was kneeling in front of me, his cold mask finally torn from his face.

I saw what I wanted to see. I saw Edward, not _him_.

Edward's eyes turned gentle, reproachful as he stared into my eyes, straight into my soul. "Don't."

"Don't?"

Hesitantly, he raised his right hand, offering it to me. "You shouldn't look so vulnerable in front of other people. Stand up."

I took his hand and he pulled me off the ground. But even as I was already standing, I kept a firm grip on him. Don't look vulnerable… is that why he was so distant, so cold? Was it because he didn't want other people in, to let other people learn of his weaknesses? Was that the reason why he refused my offer of friendship, why he seemed so hesitant all the time?

As I gazed at him, my heart suddenly started to melt.

"You're… afraid?"

"Afraid?"

"Afraid of opening up. Afraid of showing who you really are."

"You're absurd," he muttered, withdrawing his hand.

"No, I'm right," I pressed, "I see it now."

He looked at me, calculating, as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"You don't like change… and with Carlisle bringing me into your family, you're afraid that a lot of things will change. That's why you don't like me, that's why you don't want to be close to me or be my friend… you're afraid of the changes I'll bring and you don't want to risk opening up to me so you just push me away."

He narrowed his eyes at me, but his glare was ineffective now that I knew what he was hiding. "You're…"

"What? I'm right, and you know it."

"You've misinterpreted."

"How so?" I challenged.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it at once, his expression suddenly changing to uncertainty. Ha. I've got him.

"If you don't tell me, then I'll be forced to assume that I'm right," I said, a little smug.

His fingers ran through his hair as he huffed in frustration. My line of thinking was instantly shattered as I thought of how smooth and soft his hair looked liked, the moonlight catching some of the red and brown.

"Why are you so insistent on knowing?"

I blinked rapidly, distracted. "I-- I told you, I want to fix this."

"It's hard to fix things when only one person is willing to do so."

My fists clenched. "But it's not impossible."

He sighed. "You are so stubborn."

"So are you."

We stood then, staring at each other, frowning. It came to a point when his gaze was too intense that I finally looked away, but he was the first one to break the silence.

"We should head back."

Edward grabbed by hand and started to pull me along but at some point, I stood my ground and resisted. He looked back, his eyes filled with silent wonder.

"I'm not going back until we get this over with," I stated matter-of-factly, "and Carlisle and Esme won't be too pleased with you if you leave me here all alone either."

He narrowed his eyes at me, knowing that I was right, "It's better that we're not friends, Bella."

"Then let's not be friends… just try to get along with me," I murmured, "we don't have to share secrets or something. We just… need to try to get along."

He stared at me, measuring, deciding.

I raised my hand again, this time hoping that he would take it. "Truce?" I asked.

The seconds felt immensely longer as he stared at my hand again but then, slowly, he reached for it and put my hand in his. At last, he answered, "Truce."

I smiled at him, overjoyed that he _finally _cooperated with me. "So are we… going to get along now?"

He thought for a moment. "We'll try," he offered.

"I still don't see why you don't like me."

"Bella…"

I could have blushed if I were still human. "Why do you call me that?"

Edward's lips twitched, shadowing an almost smile. "You really do like asking questions."

"I'm just curious… people always use my full name. No one's ever called me that before." At least no one that I knew for just a day.

His eyes turned reproachful, "I'm sorry, does it bother you?"

"No, I like it. It's just that, I'm used to my parents and friends calling me Isabella."

"Do you want me to call you Isabella?"

A tingling feeling went up my spine. Either name would have been just fine with me. "No. Bella's just fine."

He grinned, a full blown grin. The angels could have sung as a beautiful crooked smile graced his lips. "Then Bella it is."

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**A/N: Are you glad that I updated?:) This is probably my longest chapter ever for this story… and I'm proud of it!^_^ So review and show me some love. ^_^**


	6. Chapter 5

"_The most difficult phase of your life is not when no one understands you… it's when you don't understand yourself."_

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**Chapter 5**

Time when measured by days or even hours by an immortal, was unimportant and insignificant. When you had the rest of eternity sitting in the palm of your hands to do whatever you pleased, then each passing day would eventually become inconsequential. To the likes of Carlisle who had become accustomed to living both day and night awake, this was natural, this was a fact. But as I was new to this life, I found that I was more aware of each passing day than when I was human— more amazed at how fast certain days would pass and how slow other days would crawl by. Sometimes, I would feel as if hours had passed by when in truth, only minutes had been spent in doing some meager task.

Another thing I learned about being an immortal was that there was no such thing as privacy. Well, maybe there is but with the defined and sharp senses that vampires had, every move, every carelessly said, even whispered, word could be heard by the whole household. The thing is, I had to learn this little piece of information the hard way.

The first night of my stay at the Cullen house, I witnessed, no, heard something that seemed inhuman at the time… but looking back, seemed laughable for me to panic over. Who would have known that I could hear all the things going on in a room that was a floor beneath me and thickly walled over? I certainly didn't. After that incident, I took to taking nighttime strolls a few meters away from the mansion. It wasn't a few days after that I noticed how Edward disappeared just as night fell. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, after what I heard. It would've been immensely harder for him with his mind-reading abilities. God knows what else he could've heard if he stayed.

And with that, a routine between the two of us was somehow established. The moment the first few stars appeared on the night sky, Edward would disappear from my senses. I was curious to where he went, but I never tried to follow him. I didn't want him to think that I was stalking him or to give him a reason to revert to his old scowling self— at least, not when I found that we could co-exist peacefully in the same roof. When Edward left the house at night, though, I would also take that as my cue to take a stroll outside. I didn't dare go back inside unless it was already morning.

The night sky was filled with magnificent diamonds twinkling brightly when I saw it. The cool breeze brought the smell of different wild flowers along with the scent of dewy grass. But what caused it to be tantalizing was the mixture of the scent of honey and lilac, Edward's scent. I don't know why my feet moved without my consent, I don't know why my senses followed his scent, but it did and as I entered a circular meadow, my eyes was blessed by such a colorful array of flowers, dimly lit by the moonlight. I felt oddly at peace.

"Look what the wind brought in," a soft murmur came from a few feet upfront, "Are you stalking me or something?"

I smiled, surprisingly, upon hearing the humor in his voice. It slightly relieved me that we were on good enough terms— that we weren't only being civil… we were actually somewhat getting along.

"Careful, your head might explode if it gets any bigger," I sank down next to where he was lying, hidden from the light of the moon.

His eyes were brooding, as always, as they flickered to my face, then back to the canopy of stars. "You don't have anything better to do, do you?"

"I do. But everything that may be worthwhile doing is back at the house."

"Then why don't you go back?"

I frowned. "You know why I can't."

His eyes narrowed as he murmured something too soft, even for vampiric hearing. I brushed it off. The evening was so beautiful that I didn't want to ruin it by starting a disagreement.

"How did you stand it?" I whispered.

He shrugged. He knew what I was talking about. "I grew used to it."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Isn't it?"

"If it was me in your place," I embraced my legs and rested my cheek against a knee, "I would be feeling extremely lonely."

I looked at him then, and I saw how his eyes slightly tightened. Oh.

"You feel lonely, don't you?" A slip of the tongue. I apologized, "You don't have to answer that."

He silent for a long time, his jaw slightly tightened from time to time. "To a certain extent, yes," he finally murmured, his eyes averted as if embarrassed by this proclamation, "But I never really had any desire to find a mate."

"Mate…"

He sighed. "Carlisle and Esme think otherwise."

My eyes lingered on his face, silently probing.

He sat up and shrugged. "They think that me being alone for so long… it's a bad thing. They try to cover up their thoughts, but time and again they would slip— thinking that I'm terribly lonely."

His eyes flickered to mine and I felt a faint echo of blood rushing to my cheeks as he sought deeper into my eyes— like he was trying to solve a convoluted riddle.

"That's one of the reasons that Carlisle changed you," he murmured, eyes never leaving my face.

I blinked, surprised at his words. It took a minute before I could form a coherent sentence. "I thought it was because I was dying."

"Yes, but he needed other reasons for changing you. He doesn't make it a habit to bite random dying people, you know." I couldn't decipher whether he was being sarcastic right now or not.

"He told you all this?"

"He's been trying to keep it from me, as a matter of fact."

I raised my eyebrows, inquisitively.

He tapped his forehead lightly. "Mind-reader, remember?"

"He… me… with you?" I spluttered my words, embarrassingly.

"Well, he was playing with the idea of finding someone for me, yes… Esme welcomed this idea, of course and she also wanted a daughter of her own. But Carlisle couldn't change someone just for the sake of doing it. He would never be able to live with himself if he took away someone's future in possibly the cruelest method. But then he found you on that night and everything fell into place." His lips twitched, a smile almost breaking through. "Almost everything."

I couldn't hold in the giggle that erupted from my lips. Us. Together. Ha. The mere thought of that was implausible. We were barely getting along, though we were working on it. A thread of friendship at this stage was already difficult to manage, what more a relationship of such a high caliber? Maybe Carlisle was expecting shooting stars, fireworks or so many other things that was the root of so many romance novels. But with how Edward and I were getting along, his mere touch of my hand was a something that could have been granted from a wish on a shooting star.

He smiled slightly, catching me off guard. "What are you thinking?"

I shook my head. "I guess I'm still not used to this vampire stuff."

"You're adapting much better than I did as a newborn, for what it's worth."

"I am?"

"Yes, you—" Edward's words were cut off, his eyes suddenly becoming more alert. I could his body tensing, his eyes darting to me.

He stood and pulled me up with him. "Let's go."

"Why?"

"Just do as I say," he said urgently, tugging at my hand, "Trust me."

"I—"

My trail of thought was lost as a sudden breeze made its way to the meadow and a faint scent assaulted my senses. Edward's grasp on my hand tightened, his other hand flew to my shoulders as restraint, as my head snapped to the direction of the scent.

The scent was luscious. It wasn't the dull flavor of a deer or a lion. It smelled extraordinarily mouth-watering. I hadn't fed in days and this scent, as faint as it was, seared through me, overriding my surprised senses, engulfing my burning throat in an inescapable embrace.

"Isabella. Bella snap out of it." There was a distant melody of warning as every fiber of my being prepared to attack.

My muscles coiled, a snarl rising up from my chest. Instinct had overridden my system and all that was of importance to me was capturing the source of the scent, satiating the burning thirst.

The pressure on my shoulders was annoying. I flailed my arms to get rid of the infuriating baggage and there was a cracking sound as the thing hit a tree. I was free. I ran.

"Bella, no!"

The succulent scent of the blood called to me, making my mouth water, my eyes become covered with a red haze. I could almost taste the rich liquid as the dryness of my throat ached like hot pins and needles were pricking it. I needed to slake this excruciating thirst.

But the sound of footsteps behind me made my steps falter. I growled, two instincts fighting for dominance. This slight moment of indecision was going to cost me my prey.

The other predator caught up to me and self-preservation became my priority. I turned around, but I found that I wasn't fast enough. A growl erupted from my chest as my competition lunged at me and toppled me to the ground.

My hands were suddenly at my side, an iron grasp securing them. I twisted and turned and flailed and kicked, but to no avail. His position gave him the advantage.

"— calm down."

This vampire was murmuring some words and the scent of my prey was becoming fainter by the second. I growled in frustration.

"—ella, please."

Who was this interfering vampire that was helping my prey get away?

He kept on saying things but I was too infuriated to pay attention, still trying to get him off of me. But as I swiveled my head, a flash of gold caught my eye.

His eyes.

This creature's eyes were enthralling. I immediately stopped kicking as I stared in awe at his eyes of molten gold.

As I became more mesmerized, the redness around my eyes dimmed and I heard his voice. It was an amazing melody, soothing my nerves.

"Bella?"

Bella. Who was Bella?

He cuffed both of my hands in one of his and his free hand cupped my cheek. I felt a trill of electricity at his touch.

"Bella, can you hear me?"

He kept repeating that name. Was that… _my _name?

"Come back," he whispered, sending his scent to me— another mouth-watering scent, but of a different sense— honey and lilac, and faint traces of different flora, tickling my senses into calmness.

Everything finally clicked as my eyes saw every detail of the form on top of me. Striking bronze hair with shiny, silken locks, full, pink lips, flawless, straight nose, angular face, smoldering, golden eyes… Faint memories echoed through my mind.

_The moonlight glinted off of his smooth, pale skin making it glow like a creamy river under the moon's fluorescence. The wind caressed his bronze hair, making the strands dance along with the soft current of air… Even with only the moonlight, I could see the different colors of his hair— ranging from light brown, to copper and some almost red. Each strand different but created an intricate mosaic of beauty to achieve the bronze color…_

"_I don't hate you, Bella."_

Edward.

The walls around my senses shattered and I was instantly aware of my surroundings again. But what I was most aware of was Edward's body, pressed against mine, some of his bronze hair falling over his brow as he bent over me, his eyes intense and deeply concerned.

My eyes widened. My heart could have been racing, thumping blatantly against my chest; blood would have been racing to my cheeks had I been still alive. This proximity, it was all new to me.

Edward, seeing that I was back to my proper state of mind, pulled us up but left his hands on my shoulders. "Are you well now?"

I nodded, my voice lost together with my wit and senses.

"Your eyes are still getting darker," He murmured as he peered down on me.

I looked away, suddenly feeling so vulnerable, so… _human_ under his scrutinizing gaze. "I'm fine. You can let go now."

He didn't let go.

I could still feel his gaze on me but I didn't dare look back. Embarrassment and guilt was now surfacing, adding to the earlier alien feeling, choking me with the thought that I almost killed an innocent human.

"If you're positive…"

I nodded.

"Then, it would be best if we head back home. It's already becoming light."

He started walking and pulled me along, his grasp never loosening.

"I'll tell Carlisle that we should hunt later. I shouldn't have let you go for days without blood," he murmured the latter more to himself.

I still felt surges of electricity, what with his hand still holding mine. I didn't know if it should bother me, but then again, I should be bothered by letting him hold on to me for this long. My face could have been bright red if I were still human. I was embarrassed by what happened in the forest. Our night at the meadow suddenly felt like just a dream because of it.

"Edward," I started hesitantly, tugging at his hand slightly.

He stopped at his tracks and slowly turned to face me. I could see a faint trace of surprise on his face, the first rays of light illuminating his glorious face. Then it suddenly dawned on me that this was the first time I said his name to his face. The way his named rolled off my tongue felt nice… and it caused me to be all the more embarrassed, thinking this.

"Bella?"

My head was bent. I was fully convinced that my face was shining like a bright red star, even though in the deepest part of my mind, I knew that my ability to blush was gone.

"Please don't tell Carlisle about what happened."

He studied my face for a second. His eyes were silently probing. "I won't," he said, finally, resuming walking.

My eyes could see the clearing of the trees that would lead to the now familiar path to the house, when he turned around to face me as he spoke again.

"Can you promise me something, though, in return?"

I nodded. It was only fair… as long as he wouldn't tell Carlisle about this embarrassing incident.

My eyes widened as he stepped forward and brought his finger to my lips. The gold was melting in his eyes as he whispered, his voice as smooth as silk, his tone as gentle as the breeze. And although his voice was as quiet as the wind, his words echoed through my ears and somehow, a small smile found its way to my lips, embarrassment and shame and guilt, strewn away.

"Don't tell anyone about the meadow."

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**A/N: **

**It's been more than a year, I think, since my last update, and I am terribly sorry. College is slowly killing me and squeezing in time to write amidst all the requirements and exams and drama… well, it's like trying to squeeze a full-grown elephant into a cereal box. Yeah, impossible. But since the semester's almost done, I think I can add a few chapters to my stories. Not making any promises though. But you know what can stimulate me to write more? REVIEWS! So click that button and review, people.:D **

**With much love, Zandra**


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